Miles Away
by Avonlea Sawyer
Summary: Hermione's parents have been killed, and she doesn't have anything to keep her in England. New York is her only way out of her pain, can Ron give her a reason to return to the Burrow with him, or will he lose her? Songfic, my first RHr.


100 Miles – Catie Curtis __

100 Miles Away (Song by Catie Curtis)

Holding on tight to her luggage, Hermione glanced around the street, crowded, busy. The apartment building before her towered over the traffic lights and the bustle of people trying to get nowhere and everywhere at once. Her eyes drifted skyward in hopes of seeing an owl, maybe Hedwig, or Pig, but no. Sighing to herself, she pulled her suitcase up and entered the rundown apartment building. Taking the stairs two at a time, she ended up on the top floor, in front of her new home. The four on the door was slanted and filthy with mold. Barging in, she dropped her luggage on the floor, and looked around the disgusting two room living space.

__

My mind is racing, and my feet are moving slow,

Look all around me, don't see anything I know.

I'd like to answer you, but I can't clarify,

if I'm 100 miles ahead, or 100 miles behind.

Looking out the window, Hermione sighed with disbelief, as she watched people on the street, yelling, honking horns, and cursing. The skies were dark with pollution, and the noise was inescapable. Suddenly, she wanted to be home, back at the Burrow, reading, or chasing gnomes with Harry and Ron. Would they think she was chickening out if she wrote them an owl post so early into her flight?

__

See signs of trouble, but I don't know what to think,

I don't want to rock the boat, or let it slowly sink.

I'd ask you questions, but I don't want to make you cry,

Am I 100 miles ahead, or 100 miles behind.

Sitting on her bed, which crumbled loudly beneath her slight weight, Hermione let her head fall into her hands, and she sighed inwardly. All of this, just to get out on her own, away from the emotions that bombarded her at home. She still remembered Ron's face as he watched the giant 747 lift off from where he stood next to Hermione and Harry. "You're going on that," he whispered in awe. Harry and Hermione had both laughed at him, and as Hermione walked to the ticket counter, Harry assured Ron that it would be fine. Her heart beat faster as she bid farewell, hoping that she would see them again. But as she walked away from Ron, she felt her entire body go numb with fear. Something wasn't right about this.

__

It's gonna rain, it's gonna pour,

Through sickness and worse, can I love more.

You carried me when I fell,

Can I carry you, can I love that well?

Oh, oh, oh.

Rising to her feet, Hermione frowned out the window. New York was supposed to be the city of opportunity, and she was standing in the middle of it all. Suddenly, she remembered the way Ron embraced her before she left, the way he held her so tight she couldn't breath. "Mione?" He had whispered in her ear. "If you need anything, tell me, I'll be there." Staring out at the street below, tears formed in her eyes.

__

My mind is racing, and I'm sorry if it hurts.

I've never been somewhere that I cannot reverse.

If I don't wonder, if I don't take my time,

Am I 100 miles ahead, or 100 miles behind?

Startled suddenly by a loud popping sound, Hermione swung around. Standing in the middle of her disgusting apartment was Ron Weasley, his brown eyes filled with excitement. "I passed!" He exclaimed, a smile of victory adorning his freckled features. He took one glance at her, and his face fell, casting shadows under his eyes. "Mione?" He questioned, taking a step toward her. She darted her eyes out the window, just as Ron stopped to glance around the nearly empty room. "Bloody hell, where are we?" A look from Hermione cause him to fall silent, as he reached forward to embrace her. "Come back," he whispered, tilting her face toward his. "Come back, stay at the Burrow."

__

It's gonna rain, it's gonna pour,

Through sickness and hell, can I love more.

You carried me when I fell,

Can I carry you, can I love that well?

Oh, oh, oh.

"My parents are dead, Ron," Hermione exclaimed. "He killed them! The Dark Mark hung above my house for a week!" Tears splashed onto her cheek as she turned away. "I have nothing to go back there for, I'm a 100 miles behind."

Ron gently touched her cheek, sweeping the tears away, and bringing her back to look at him. "You once told Harry that you loved me," he whispered. Her eyes widened in disbelief and horror. "Do you still?" Refusing to answer, Hermione turned away, surprised that Harry would betray her trust. "Because if you do, they you do have something to return for." Her breath catching in her throat, she turned to look at him. "You're not 100 miles behind, you were always just out of reach…"

"I'm right here, Ron," Hermione whispered softly. "I'm right here…"

__

You carried me, when I fell.

Can I carry you, can I love that well?

Oh, oh, oh.


End file.
